The End of the World (As We Know it)
by chocoholicannanymous
Summary: Everyone has a different explanation for why they survived the apocalypse when so many others died. For the group from Lima, Ohio it's a very simple one.
1. The End of the World (As We Know it)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.

AN: This one ties in, somewhat, with Hide Your Faces, but is NOT in the same 'verse.

 **The End of the World (As We Know it)**

Once it all calms down everyone will have a different story to explain how they lived through it all. Kurt doesn't have a story. He has a Carole.

O-o-o-O

It's such a silly thing that does it. Carole forgets her book and returns inside for it. That's it. That's the difference between catching a phone call, and missing it. That's the difference between living and dying.

There's so much noise in the background, and at first Carole is tempted to hang up, thinking it's probably a prank call. And then a voice comes through.

"Aunt Carole? Oh thank god, aunt Carole!"

It's her cousin's daughter Laura, a brilliant girl halfway through her residency at DC's most prestigious hospital, and she's frantic. The words "end of the world" and "apocalypse" are used, and Carole fights to make sense of what she hears.

In the end it comes down to this: some scientists with more brains than common sense had played god and created an apocalypse virus. Some fanatic with no brains at all had stolen it, wanting to play god too, to recreate the world according to their own vision. The virus had been released in DC, and now, only two hours later the city is dying.

Laura too, and she's using what time she has left to warn everyone she loves.

The virus isn't airborne, thankfully, and by a stroke of luck all airports were closed the minute the bombs went off. That means that they've got for as long as it takes to drive from DC to Lima to get safe.

Laura tells her, through tears and coughing, to take care, to be a good person, and that she loves her. Then she hangs up, either to call the next person on her list or to go spend her final hours (minutes?) being a doctor.

It was all Laura had ever wanted.

Carole hangs up, takes a deep breath, and fights back the panic. There's no time for it now, because that time might very well be the difference between surviving this or not. She needs to think, to plan, and to be smart. She needs to keep it together, because otherwise more people she loves will die.

First things first. Roll-call. Burt is at some exhibit in Dayton. Kurt's at Dalton, spending the weekend in the infirmary thanks to food poisoning. It's just her and Finn, who's in his room playing video games with Sam and Puck. That means she's at least got a workforce. That's not a bad place to start.

It takes her fifteen minutes and three phone calls to come up with a plan. And to think some of her friends called her book circle a waste of time. Instead of panicking the other members had helped come up with a plan, and now they were going to execute it. Together.

"Finn! Boys! I need you to come down here, now!"

Telling them is...annoying, honestly. They are pumped from playing their damned war games, and talking about guns and Molotov cocktails, and hiding out in bunkers? Perfect way to get killed.

"No. Stop. Here's what's going to happen. You are not going to shoot anyone. Instead here's how it's going to go."

Carole has never wanted to join the military but she's a mom, and that's like being a general. Luckily neither of the boys are old enough to think themselves too good to listen to a mom.

She sends them off to pack, to warn others, and to round up people, while she goes to pack her own bags.

It's another hour before they all meet up. It's a depressingly small group, but still better than Carole had feared. Every car is packed full with what supplies each person or family had, as well as clothes and a few toys and games.

"So, you got us all here. Now what?"

"Now we go to Dalton."

It's the perfect place for them. Being a boarding school means Dalton has more than enough space, and it's fenced. Plus, there is a kitchen designed to feed hundreds and backup generators meaning it would be a **functioning** kitchen. And of course, there's the infirmary.

Dalton is about to become sanctuary for so many more than just Kurt.

O-o-o-O

When Carole calls Kurt wants to go to them. It's only Carole's plan that keeps him in one place. Well, that and the fact that he really is in no shape to drive, not to mention walk out of the room even.

There are eight students left at Dalton. Four in the infirmary, another three that had nowhere else to go over the weekend, and Wes, who'd stayed to watch over his Warblers. Eight teenage boys and a nurse. Every one else was gone, even the faculty. (He suspects there were several of them who were warned and didn't share.)

It makes Kurt feel so very vulnerable.

By the time the Lima caravan arrives Kurt's worried himself to the point where the nurse is threatening to sedate him, but. It's his family. His friends. It's basically everyone he cares about, with the exception of Blaine. (Blaine who's away with his parents somewhere, and who laughed when Kurt called to pass on the warning, and told him to take something for the fever as his hallucinations sounded horrible.)

Carole's rounded up her book circle, most of the Glee club, and as much of their families as she could. Mike's dad is at a conference, the cheerios are at a competition, and Artie's parents are out of town, but she's got the rest. Even Rachel is there, with both her dads, even if it looks like she didn't want to be. There are a few people Kurt doesn't recognize, but he'll get to know them soon enough he suspects.

He sits still while Carole takes down notes of everyones' skills, and what supplies they have, and then, when his dad comes bursting in he finally relaxes. As Burt helps him back to his bed Kurt hears the others make plans, but nothing sticks. His fever is up, and it's taking over everything.

By the time Kurt's back to normal it's day 4 of the apocalypse, and everything has changed. Dalton's become a fortified camp, with close to a hundred inhabitants. They've gathered up quite a number of the girls from Crawford County Day, who'd been A few of the students has come back, alone or in the company of family or friends. Sue Sylvester had shown up on day two with a bus full of traumatized cheerleaders, followed by coach Beiste and a bus half-full of even more traumatized football players. (The reason for their trauma is mostly the same as for why the bus is only half-full.)

Most of their number are teenagers, or women, or both. Kurt suspects it's because boys and men were more caught up in the survivalist fantasy of it all, while the women focused on safety and protection. The teenagers, well. They got dragged along.

Thanks to a couple of "supply runs" (raids, though no one ill call them that) they've got enough food and medical supplies to last them maybe a year. Thanks to one girl having grandparents with a small farm there are a couple of goats and a number of hens living out in Dalton's prized gardens. They've picked up a couple of greenhouses, in case they're still here when spring comes, an extra generator, and everything solar-powered they could get their hands on.

That's what Kurt spends all of his awake time doing over the next week – installing solar panels. Unlike most of the group he knows his way around mechanics and electronics, thanks to countless hours in the garage, **and** he's got what it takes to crawl around on the roof. Once he's done they have enough power to keep the lights on when eating, as well as to allow for a movie night twice a week in one of the common rooms.

Another supply run and Kurt can proudly present hot water for the showers.

No one messes with him after that.

Life at Dalton becomes about as good as it's possible to be when the country is falling down around them. They have food and shelter, they're warm and healthy and safe and **together** , and they don't have to fight to survive. They don't fight, period. The zero tolerance policy stays, even through all this. Oh, people might not have much of a choice, since it's that or get thrown out, but still. There is no fighting. No bullying.

And when you have to? Turns out even hardened bullies can unlearn their behavior.

Not everyone is going to conform of course, and a month in they've already turned away several would-be inhabitants for refusing to do so. Some people can't accept not being allowed to spread their prejudice, or mistreat others, or they can't accept having women and "kids" in charge. Not even during an apocalypse of sorts. Not even when it's their lives at stake.

But for those who agree to follow the rules? It doesn't get much better, or safer, than this.

As Kurt walks though the dining hall with Carole one evening, he looks around at the faces of his family and his friends, sees them smiling and healthy, and knows that it's because of Carole. Left on their own most of them would not have made it, and Carole knew that. She was the one to bring them together, to bring them here, and it's because of her the rst of them are safe.

Kurt smiles a little, shaking his head at the realization that in a way he's probably happier here and now than he's been in years.

Sure, it might be the end of the world – or at least the world as they know it – but they're doing pretty damned fine.

~The End ~


	2. Apocalypse Packing According to Finn Hud

Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.

 **Apocalypse Packing According to Finn Hudson**

Finn ends up not having to do his own packing. That's probably for the best, because it's really not something he's good at. At all. He always brings the wrong things, and has to redo it at least once. Forgetting to pack something for a trip to grandma's house is one thing. Apocalypse packing however? That's probably a really bad time to mess up.

So when his mom calls for him five minutes in, telling him she'll do the packing because he's needed elsewhere Finn's relieved. Left to his own devices he'd probably end up with all of his socks but no tees, or something like that.

How **do** you pack for the apocalypse anyway? None of the movies Finn's seen has taught him anything about it.

So far all he's managed on his own is a photo album and his old bear, the one his dad bought when Finn was born. Oh, and all of his socks.

Any way. Artie's in trouble. His parents are out of town, just for the night, and while that wouldn't be a problem under normal circumstances now it's a disaster. He can't drive, and rolling anywhere is just stupid. One thing the movies has taught Finn is that people do horrible things to each other during apocalypses, and since Artie needs two hands to make his chair roll he wouldn't be able to defend himself.

So. He's stuck.

Finn's the best option to fix that, so he grabs a crowbar – because horrible things, remember, and while Finn doesn't want to hurt anyone he wants to **be** hurt even less – and prepares to go out and be a good person while his mom finishes the packing. (He thinks he'll do a slightly better job there. He hopes.)

He doesn't have to walk over, because Sam hasn't left yet, and that means he also doesn't have to use his crowbar.

Artie's all packed and ready to go, with the exception of food since most of the kind of foodstuff they want is a bit higher up than he can reach. Finn doesn't have that problem though.

When they're done Finn carries the food and Artie's bags – and his extra wheelchair – out to the van. He keeps the loads small though, even though it means making five trips, just so that he has one hand free for the crowbar. The sixth trip is just guarding Artie, and making sure both he and the chair make it into the van in one piece.

They're supposed to go straight to the meet-up point, but well. Finn's got somewhere he wants to stop. He knows his mom has planned to pick up more food and medical supplies once they're all together, but he also knows that not even someone as great as she will remember everything.

Every single apocalypse movie Finn's seen has had one thing in common: a lot of people don't make it, and out of those who do most lose everything. They're going to run into a lot of those, Finn thinks, and knowing his mom they'll end up trying to help them too. It's just, some of the people having lost everything? Will be kids. And for them "everything" might end up meaning family as well.

Now, Finn can't replace parents. (Hell, he's still working on this whole brother thing.) What he can do is smash a window and grab a load of stuffed animals for any kids they do run into. It won't replace what they've lost, never, but having something soft to hug, well, it helps.

Finn's learned that the hard way.

As Finn loads the bag-full of toys in the back of the ridiculously empty van he meets Artie's eyes in the rear-view mirror. He doesn't say anything, just looks at the other boy. And then Artie nods.

When they roll out ten minutes later there are another two bags in the back. They have the room, and well. Finn's pretty sure there are going to be a lot of people needing a stuffed companion during the days to come.

~The End ~


	3. Luck is a Matter of Perspective

Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.

 **Luck Is a Matter of Perspective**

He's lucky. Kurt keeps telling himself that. They're in the midst of an apocalypse, for crying out loud, and people are dying. Suffering. Yet **he** is safe. And not only him, but his entire family, **and** his friends – the entire Glee club made it, only Mr Schue missing.

All of them safe.

And yet. In his dreams they aren't. In his dreams Kurt's plagued with visions: a tearful call from his dad, saying goodbye; going to pick up Carole at work only to find the building swarmed with Infected and not a living soul to be found; hearing Mercedes die, seeing Quinn ripped to pieces, leaving an Infected Finn behind to die...

He's lucky. He repeats that every time he claws himself out of a nightmare.

Maybe one day he'll believe it.

~The End ~


End file.
